


If It Shines, My Seven Colors Symphony

by Wendy_Parker



Series: Twisted-Wonderland: Our Precious Treasure - Gaiden [11]
Category: Disney - All Media Types, Twisted-Wonderland (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Music, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Shigatsu wa Kimi no Uso | Your Lie in April Fusion, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, M/M, Not related to Twisted-Wonderland: Our Precious Treasure, pianist!Riddle, violinist!Jonah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:08:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26087692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wendy_Parker/pseuds/Wendy_Parker
Summary: The day Riddle met the boy under the cherry blossoms, his days changed forever.(Twisted-Wonderland © Disney, Aniplex)
Relationships: Riddle Rosehearts/Original Character(s)
Series: Twisted-Wonderland: Our Precious Treasure - Gaiden [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1743628
Comments: 1
Kudos: 19





	If It Shines, My Seven Colors Symphony

The sound of piano playing filled the air.

The sixty anniversary piano competition was held in a hall which was filled with people, both to support and enjoy music.

A ten-year-old boy sat in front of the piano, his fingers moving fast and like a machine. Everyone was mesmerized by his playing. It was captivating. The fact that the little boy was able to play the difficult piece by Beethoven without a score left everyone held on to their seats due to the intense play.

The boy had soulless eyes as he plays skillfully, with no emotion showing on his face. He played every note without hesitation. He played and played ...

* * *

A boy with red hair and a heart-shaped ahoge was alone in his class, sitting behind his desk with earphones attached. He listened to the song playing loudly in his ear as he scribbles on the sheet music in front of him.

Loud music blocked all sounds, making him oblivious to the classroom door opening and a boy with purple hair and cat ears walked in with a ball in his hand. “Riddle...”

The boy named Riddle Rosehearts didn’t respond. The purplenette threw the ball with full force at Riddle, “Leave yourself WIDE open!”

Riddle quickly dodged the ball flying toward him. “What a boring reaction,” the purplenette scowled as he revealed himself from behind the table.

Riddle turned to the purplenette as he slightly raised his hand in greeting. “Hello to you too, Che’nya.”

Alchemi Alchemivich Pinkaa or Che’nya for short, Riddle’s childhood friend, walked over to the redhead and sat in front of the serious boy. Then, suddenly, pulled out one of Riddle’s earpiece, gaining a grunt from the boy. “Sitting alone in a classroom after school… What are you listening to?” As Che’nya put on the earpiece, he exclaimed excitedly, “Hey! Is this _‘Piece of My World’_? What’s playing on every radio station right now? Whoa!”

Riddle just hummed without saying anything, clearly trying to ignore the purplenette and focused on transcribing this new song as his side job.

Che’nya pressed Riddle’s forehead with his index finger, finally, the redhead came to attention. “You're too gloomy!” he said with a smile. “There was no spark in your eye! We’re seventeen years old, you know! Live your life!”

Riddle raised an eyebrow. It was sudden for Che’nya. “It’s just a trick of the light,” he responded.

Che’nya groaned. “There you go! Conventional wisdom! You get what I mean, don’t you? They don’t! You’re a teenager, so they all have to light up!” He made an explosive motion with his hand. “Be lit!”

Riddle chuckled at Che’nya’s funny acting. The purple-haired boy sighed as he leaned back in his chair.

“You know, Rielle said something the other day,” Che’nya said. “When you are in love with someone, everything looks colorful…” He turned to Riddle. “Maybe you need to find that special someone.”

Riddle shook his head, no longer looking into his Che’nya’s shining golden eyes.

In Che’nya’s eyes, Riddle could bet everything looked colorful.

_Unlike him._

_Where everything looks like a monotone._

_Just like musical scores, like a keyboard._

He remembered the days when his world had started to turn gray. The day he gave up in the middle of a recital.

**_The autumn Riddle Rosehearts was ten..._ **

**_He could no longer play the piano._ **

* * *

It just so happened that Riddle was passing by the local park one spring afternoon. That was when he saw something out of place.

A pair of brown shoes.

And a black jacket.

Hanging on a growing tree branch.

He went to the branch and picked up the shoes and jacket. “Are these for marks? Or to ward off evil spirits?”

The cherry blossoms started to fall when a gentle breeze blew by. He looked up and saw a cherry blossom tree standing in an ordinary sea of green.

That was when he heard it.

_Music._

_A melodica. Playing a nursery rhyme song. Playing pretty well too._

Riddle held onto the items he had previously found as he walked towards the area filled with cherry blossom trees, walking towards the sweet music played by the melodica.

The song drew closer as he picked up speed and took a shortcut to the playground, a pathway in the shade of trees. He closed his eyes, focused on the sound of the instruments and paused when he found the source.

He was not surprised to see children playing in the playground. But what caught his eye ...

Was that boy, standing in the middle of a circle of children dancing, playing a melodica.

**_Everything I see, everything I hear, everything I feel ..._ **

The boy playing the melodica couldn’t be any older than Riddle, and perhaps younger - no more than sixteen, for sure. His reddish-brown hair, tied in a ponytail bounced with his ahoge as the boy kept bouncing on his toes as he played the instrument, his fingers gracefully pressing every note.

And Riddle found himself staring at the boy.

**_All the scenery around me began to change color._ **

The boy continued to play his score while dancing along with the little audiences who were still giggling at him happily and Riddle continued to stare with his mouth slightly open, he thought he looked like a creep but he didn’t care.

Riddle hadn’t heard the happy instrument in a long time. He chuckled, thinking about how he looked like the Pied Piper of Hamelin. He took out his cell phone to record this beautiful sight.

The boy spun around, finishing the rest of the song and he waved in a dramatic motion as soon as he was done. He bowed to his audience and the children laughed and applauded.

As the boy straightened up, his eyes met Riddle’s.

_Tears..._

Tears started to trickle down the boy’s cheeks as he looked at Riddle with his one black, teary, eye. The falling cherry blossoms only made him even more mesmerizing as a gentle breeze blew his hair.

_Why is he crying?_

The boy coughed slightly as he wiped his tears. “I blew too hard…”

“Big Bro, again!” One of the children said and the boy laughed.

“Again? You kids will love your singing game.”

“Sounds very good, Big Bro!”

“Big Brother, one more time!”

The boy laughed again. “I will, I will, in a moment! We have to choose another song, right? What’s so good? I know this other song-” the boy cut off abruptly and Riddle noticed he was staring at him.

“You!”

Riddle suddenly realized that the boy was pointing at him.

“What are you doing with my stuff?!” The boy had already raised his suspicious shiny melodica, ready to strike him down.

Riddle took a look at the shoes and jacket before looking at the boy in panic. “It’s just a coincidence!”

The boy tilted his head to the side. “Oh.” He lowered the melodic and Riddle let out the breath he was unconsciously holding. But then the boy picked up the melodica again. “Then why take pictures of little kids like pedophile?!”

“Please don’t use your instrument as a weapon,” said Riddle, raising his hands and surrendering. “Well, I ... I enjoyed your performance.”

“Hah?” Cleary, that boy didn’t expect that answer. Though he recovered quickly and sent Riddle a grin. He ran over to Riddle and leaned slightly towards him. “Really? Well, thank you.”

The boy raised his hand towards Riddle. “I’m Jonah,” he said. “What is your name?”

Riddle lowered his head. “I’m ... Riddle.”

Jonah smiled broadly at him, and Riddle thought he could almost see the sparks in his eyes. “Cool! We know each other’s names now. That means we are friends!”

Riddle looked up, blinking. Jonah is still smiling. You can’t just make friends that fast, right?

“Oh!” Jonah looked at his watch. “I’m going to be up soon! I’ve to head right now!”

“Head over? Where?” Riddle asked as Jonah ran to get his things in the sandbox. The brunette smiled as he pointed to the building overlooking the garden, “Over there.”

Riddle’s silver-gray eyes widened at the name of the building.

_Night Raven Hall._

“Isn’t that…” Riddle muttered.

“Night Raven Hall.” Jonah answered while carrying a red instrument case covered with various pirate stickers. “I will be performing there today.”

Jonah turned to look at them and smiled brightly.

“I’m a violinist.”

Riddle didn’t know what to do with the feeling building up in his chest, constricting his lungs. He wondered if he should check it out.

“Very well ...” Riddle swallowed hard. “Good luck.”

Grinning, Jonah raised two fingers to his head and tipped them towards him as if giving a brief salute.

Then, he just ran away.

* * *

“Wait, wait,” interrupted Che’nya, as Riddle was telling the story in a monotone during his lunch break, after much insinuating how much he had been distracted all day. “Does this Jonah boy have an eye-patch?”

Riddle blinked. “Yes. He’s the cheerful, fun-loving type of guy, and ...” Riddle paused. “Has the biggest smile you have ever seen.”

Che’nya laughed with amusement. “I know this guy.”

“You do?”

Che’nya took a bite from his tuna sandwich. “Yeah. His name is Jonah Argentum. He’s actually a classmate of mine.”

Riddle paused from sipping his tea. “Really? I never heard of him from you.”

Che’nya shrugged. “Yes. He’s a cool guy even though we rarely spend time together.”

“How come?”

“Around this time, Jonah used to stay to practice his violin. You might catch him in the music room if you want to hear him again.”

Riddle only nodded.

* * *

_Beethoven’s Violin Sonata No. 9. The Kreutzer._

_Riddle knows this song._

He could hear the sound of the violin, even through the closed door. It was a harmonious tune.

Riddle thought that if he hadn’t resolutely avoided the music room during his high school career, he might have met Jonah earlier. There was no way he could stay away from a sound as pure as this. He opened the door carefully, peeking inside.

Jonah didn’t notice him at first, immersed in his playing. He was standing in front of the dark brown piano, outlined by the window, back facing the door, so he never noticed Riddle slowly entering and closing the door behind him.

Outside, other students filled the courtyard with screams and laughter. But Riddle heard none of them – saw none of those - his world at that moment was tied to one thing only.

Jonah’s bow was gentle and flowing, the tone entirely present but more calm and controlled, until there was a sudden, staccato sound, with the bow spring the song danced and all eyes were on Jonah’s agile movements.

Riddle’s fists trembled. In his mind, pink roses were growing wild with Jonah’s every drags filled with emotions, though Riddle could see the small smile on the brunette’s face as he plunged in and continued to break every rule they made for him.

_Smashing right onto them._

_This… this is still Kreutzer, right?_

_Wait. This is. It has to be._ Riddle was sure. But its wild dynamic, the tempo all over the place made it seem completely different.

And finally, with Jonah’s final note, the sonata ended.

He gasped for breath, bow still raised. Even from behind, Riddle could imagine him grinning widely, an expression of no remorse.

Riddle could help but applaud him. Only then did Jonah turn around, finally realizing that he wasn’t alone in the music room.

Jonah lowered his violin and saluted Riddle with his bow. “Hey there.”

Riddle gave him an awkward wave, realizing he was sort-of intruding. “Hey.”

“Have you been watching me?”

Riddle felt a strange heat on his cheeks when he saw Jonah’s bright and hopeful smile.

“What do you think?” the brown hair asked again.

Riddle was taken back by Jonah’s eagerness. He swallowed hard, forgetting how to string words at all. “That was ...” he began and he didn’t know how to proceed. Jonah’s performance was different; unlike anything he had seen before. Riddle’s own experience with music was rigorous, always following a code, every perfect dictation of the invisible composer. With Jonah, he broke everything he knew. His spontaneity, the sudden burst of life reminded him of his personality. He was talented and Riddle didn’t know enough other adjectives to convey it.

“You did well.” And that was an understatement. Jonah looked like he was waiting for more, so Riddle sat down on the piano bench.

Jonah chuckled, “Thanks. Though, I was all over the place.”

“You were.” Riddle smiled. “It was an organized chaos.”

It made Jonah laugh even louder. “I know, right?” And Riddle laughed with him.

“So how was the performance yesterday?”

“It was fun!” Jonah exclaimed. “I played this song yesterday!”

 _Really?_ Honestly, if Jonah had actually played exactly like that yesterday, Riddle was a little worried about him. If it was any other competition or some other show, Jonah would’ve win. But, Riddle looked up yesterday, Jonah’s competition was a formal competition. Jonah barely followed how the score is to be played – He was too spontaneous, his dynamics were on haywire. _Did he get judged? Is he even got a place for the next round?_

“So ...” Riddle swallowed, worried that he would hurt the brunette’s feelings. “How was it?”

But Jonah only smiled brightly, without the slightest bit of sadness or disappointment. “I won an audience award!” Jonah laughed. “So, I passed to the second round!”

Riddle sighed unconsciously. He was happy. Jonah really was talented, and Riddle was sure the violinist had left a mark on his audience.

_Like how he gave color to his life._

He didn’t realize he leaned his elbow on the piano, resting his hand on his cheek until his elbow slips off when the music faded to nothing. It hit a key in a staccato of dissonant notes, and it echoed so wrongly in his head - like a warning bell ringing - that he jerked his arm back with a sharp glare at the offending appendage.

“Do you play?” Jonah asked, after pausing for a moment.

Riddle looked up, alarmed. “What?”

Jonah’s expression shifted into something unreadable. Almost calm. “The piano. You play?”

“No. I don’t,” whispered Riddle. _Not anymore. Never again._

“That’s weird,” Jonah casually commented. “Because you keep looking at it, ever since you walked in. And just now, your fingers twitched.” Jonah took a deep breath. “Do you... Want to play? Because you look like you want to.”

Riddle got up to his feet. “I don’t play,” he said, a little harsher than he meant. “Leave it, Jonah.”

Jonah raised his hand, still holding his violin and bow. He visibly took a step back. “Okay, okay.”

The bell rang. Jonah sighed loudly and packed his violin. He slung his bag on his shoulder. Jonah walked away from Riddle, before stopping in the doorway. Without turning back, he said, “See you later.”

Then he was gone, closing the door softly. Riddle looked at the piano, unassuming - accusingly.

_Haunting._

What Riddle said was true. _But it’s not that simple - not for him._

_Riddle can’t play. He’d made a promise._

_Although, at this time, he couldn’t remember who it was for._

_The thought is hollowing._

* * *

“Jonah Argentum! What is the meaning of this?! “Riddle shouted, entering the music room.

At the interruption, Jonah lowered his violin, grinning innocently at Riddle. “Oh, Senior Rosehearts. You came earlier than I expected. How may I serve you?”

“This!” Riddle held up the music sheet in his hand. “Explain yourself! Why did I find this in my locker?”

“That’s the _Violin Sonata number ni-_ ”

“I can read, Argentum. You know I can’t play.”

Jonah shrugged. “Oh, I sure know you. Riddle Rosehearts, the greatest pianist of our generation. The Golden Boy, or Queen of Heart for your merciless ways in following the score.” The corners of his lips tugged up. “Right now, I need piano accompaniment, and lo and behold, I found you.”

Riddle vehemently resisted the urge to punch something. Even now, deeply ingrained in him was the pianist’s instinct to keep his hands in good condition. “I. Don’t. Play.”

“Don’t or can’t?” Jonah scoffed. “Looks like you have a hard time deciding it.”

Anger swelled up in Riddle’s chest, and the words that came out weren’t completely him. “This is all a joke to you, right? Because it is so easy for you to play that you expect the same for other people. Just because you can do what you like-”

Jonah laughed. “Easy there, Your Majesty. You also don’t know anything about me, so don’t just talk.” He raised his hands.

Riddle slammed his mouth shut as Jonah turned around, facing the window, leaving Riddle to stare at his back. “It’s really a choice. You can come and play, or you can forget about it. I seem to have written your name on. “

Riddle looked down at his shoes. “You could’ve asked me first.”

“What difference will it make?”

The redhead gripped the sheet music tightly, creating wrinkles on the paper.

* * *

The bag felt heavier because of the extra weight of the music sheet.

* * *

Riddle sat in front of his dusty black piano.

The keys always had their a protective cover on them, so they weren’t dusty, but everything else - the seat, the back, even the music stand - was covered in a thick layer of dust. This was his mother’s piano, the piano Riddle himself slaved over when he was growing up, slaved over and despised. The piano on which he wiped his tears, the keys he pressed with trembling fingers.

Placing the music sheets into its place, Riddle took a deep breath, then raised his hand and carefully placed his fingers on the keys. They were cold and solid under his skin, but all he had to do was press against them to bring them back to life. _All he had to do was move. He memorized the songs, he can play them in the dark with his eyes closed. He knows them. They are a part of him. If he only—_

**_“I didn’t say you could rest! You won’t sleep until you are perfect, so do it!”_ **

Riddle shot up from his chair, knocking the chair down as he pulled his hand away from the keys as if it burned. He cradled his hand tightly to his chest, realized that they were shaking, and the air suddenly felt heavy, suffocating him. It took him a long time to calm down, curling into a little ball in front of the piano. He felt weak and his whole body was trembling.

_There was a time when he liked this instrument._

_And he wants it back._

* * *

It took Riddle three days to finally have the courage back into the music room to see Jonah again. For once in his life, he was willing to admit defeat.

“I ... really, really don’t know about being your accompanist, Jonah.”

He just couldn’t do it, no matter how much he tried, no matter how much he wanted to. He was terrified, of the numbness crawling through his hand, until the sounds of bass lag behind the melody, and Riddle was forced to remember the murmurs of the audience when he’d stumbled for the first time in all his years of performing.

He didn’t want to tell Jonah no - not anymore when every fiber of him craved the opposite.

Jonah sighed. “Okay.”

Riddle blinked. “Okay?”

The brunette shrugged. “I sort of just thrust those sheets onto you. You can throw it away if you don’t want to.” He closed his violin case and slung the bag over his shoulder. “If I have to, I can just pull out of the competition. Or go without an accompanist if they allow it.”

Riddle nodded stiffly. “... I don’t want to say no,” he said, “but I’m leaning more in that direction. I’m sorry.”

“I told you, it’s okay,” he grinned weakly. “Don’t stress over that or anything.” He walked past Riddle, before giving him a light pat on the shoulder. “I’m off.”

Riddle turned around. “Where are you going?”

Jonah looked over his shoulder. “The courtyard. Senior Asim invited me to play with the Light Music Club. You can watch us if you want.”

* * *

Soon, Riddle found himself in the middle crowd with Che’nya. The Music Club equipment was prepared, and nothing too complicated, but still everyone was restless with excitement. He couldn’t even imagine what the violin and electronic music would have been. But seeing Jonah was enough to build anticipation in his heart.

“For the next song, we’re gonna be featuring Jonah, on the violin!” Cater announced over the microphone. “Ready, man?”

Jonah brought the violin to his chin, grinning at the murmurs that surfaced in the crowd. “Bring it.”

The first chord starts off slow. Soft, as he knew only Jonah with the instrument. Until the bass joined - then the electronic chords, layered under the sound of the strings, built up momentum.

And like a tidal wave, it grew even stronger, a beating heartthrob in Riddle’s veins as he stared transfixed, at the unshakable and beautiful power, that of Jonah Argentum. He pushed the song faster, the grin on his face turning wild until the band was forced to follow him, struggling to keep up with Jonah’s brutal rhythm. His whole body moved to the beat, agile and powerful, and so bright it almost hurt to look too long.

It ended with Jonah banging his bow to the final note, then swinging the bow up, arms outstretched, the tip of the bow pointed toward the sky. The sunlight made the sweat on his face glow, and he was like the way he was breathing heavily, shoulders and chest heaving, but…

_He was smiling._

The people clapped, cheering. Riddle could barely clap his hands, mesmerized. Dumbfounded. After that intense performance, Riddle wondered if it could be that he once a day - playing with Jonah, on stage, together - struggling to wow the crowd.

_Can be. He wanted it to come true._

The itching sensation had returned, down his fingertips, to his forearm, until it felt very heavy. _He wants to play._

_He wants to play with Jonah._

* * *

“Riddle.” Riddle took of his headphone when Trey placed a plate of strawberry tart in front of him. It was the weekend and Riddle decided he needed a mood booster. Another childhood friend, Trey, opened the family bakery and Riddle always visited him for tea and cake.

"You look happy. Did something good happen?" Trey asked.

Riddle shrugged. “I have met a violinist. He's pretty cool. "

“Oh.” There was a small smile on Trey's face. "You should introduce me to him. I want to see a man who makes you smile again."

_Oh._

_He hadn’t known he was doing that._

* * *

“Jonah, can I ask you something?” That was Riddle’s first question as he entered the music room. Jonah stopped playing and Riddle regretted not having waited a few seconds for another amazing performance.

“Senior Rosehearts?” Jonah blinked. But then he nodded. “Of course.”

“Jonah, why are you playing the violin?”

Jonah lowered his violin and bow, humming thoughtfully. “Well ... I always thought musicians were really cool, so I asked my dad for a violin, and they signed me up with music lessons.”

“So you chose to play it?”

“Yes,” said Jonah. “But, I think since then, my reasons have changed a little. I started playing it because I thought people who could play an instrument were cool, but I kept playing because I fell in love with him. I keep playing because I can make my parents smile. I keep playing because, well, I guess ... music is my friend, you know? When I’m pissed off, when I’m angry, when something’s wrong ... I’ll take my violin outside and just play it. Music is one of the few things in the world that won’t judge you, and only accepts you for who you are. And, you know, I need it sometimes. “

Riddle accepted this, and he thought, for a moment, that he and Jonah came from completely different backgrounds, not only as humans, but as musicians as well.

“… I want what you have,” said Riddle, and the words shocked him as much as they surprised Jonah, the look on his face. “Your passion, your love ... the way you play the violin with so many ... so many feelings, like there’s nowhere in the world you want more ... I ... I want that.”

It seems foolish to say it, but Jonah didn’t think of it that way. He put down his violin and walked towards Riddle. Slowly he raised his hand, resting it on the redhead’s shoulder.

“I’ll help you,” said Jonah, and the words buried him somewhere deep in Riddle’s heart. “I mean, I’m not the most skilled and we don’t really know each other well. But we musicians have to stick together, right? “He smiled softly. “If you want to play with me, if you will let me… I think I can help you. I will give it my best shot. “

It wasn’t much, and it wasn’t a solution, but Riddle felt a spark within him, something he hadn’t felt in a very, very long time.

Maybe it was excitement. Anticipation. For the first time in his life, he wanted to know what the future would be like. _He wants to move forward._

* * *

Riddle managed to finish the piece the next day. It was a battle, and it was a tough fight, and there were several times when he wanted to give up, when he wanted to slam the case over the locks again and call Jonah to tell him he couldn’t do it ...

But he wants to play with Jonah. He wanted to play the piano and like it as much as Jonah liked his violin. He wanted that, he wanted it so badly.

So, he finished with that thought. He got through it, and it was difficult, it was very difficult, but Jonah chose the good part, this, that Riddle didn’t have much baggage.

If it had been another part, it might have been different, but this ... this was a good choice, even if just a coincidence.

Riddle passed by once one day, gave himself a day off, then tried again. He also tried again after that. And again. And again.

_Again._

And this time, he wasn’t forced to try again. He did it because he wanted to, because he wanted what Jonah had, because he wanted to stand on that stage, and he wanted to press his fingers into the keys, because— He wanted to be a musician.

* * *

“Are you ready?”

Riddle took a breath through his nose, then nodded and let it out. “I think so,” he said, and the two of them headed backstage with the other competitors.

Jonah looked nervous, or, at least fidgety, and frankly, Riddle felt the same way. Every instinct he had was saying no, screaming that it was a bad idea and that he shouldn’t step on that stage, but… He wanted to…

... He longed to...

It was their turn before he was ready, and Riddle followed Jonah onto the stage. They bowed, the crowd cheered, and when the applause died down and the silence returned, Riddle sat at the piano, and Jonah raised his violin.

 _It is okay._ Riddle took a deep breath. _It is okay. This is good. Just go straight through this song, and ..._

“Are you ready?” Jonah asked calmly, and Riddle stared at him.

Riddle wasn’t ready, not really, and he wasn’t sure he would, or even be.

But, after a moment, he nodded and raised his finger over the lock. Jonah readied his bow, hovered over the ropes, and with a sure nod to Riddle they shot straight for it.

It was fine at first, but Jonah was reckless, just as Riddle thought. The dynamics were odd, the way he played was strange, but they were perfect at the same time, even as Riddle struggled to adjust the tempo and his fingers flew across the keys. It started well, it started well, in fact, it was better than Riddle expected.

Except-

**_“What are you doing!? That’s not what it was meant to be played! Start at the top again!”_ **

And Riddle began to drown. He fought it, he struggled to keep his fingers moving, struggled to keep his mind in the here and now and nothing else, but his thoughts were swirling as his eyesight spun, and his ears were ringing until he couldn’t hear the piano, until he couldn’t hear the violin, until the only thing he heard was his memories and haunting thoughts and—

_He stopped._

The ringing was cut, and he could hear Jonah’s violin, shrill and steady and there, but not the piano.

Riddle rested his hands on his feet, teeth clenched behind his lips, eyes burning. He heard whispers rising from the audience behind Jonah’s playing, and although it was muffled and Riddle couldn’t make out the words, he could guess what they were saying.

_He felt guilty. If he keeps playing he will spoil it for Jonah. The boy should have chosen someone else. He knew he couldn’t—_

The violin stopped.

Riddle’s head snapped up, his eyes were wide open, and he saw Jonah lower his bow arm, violin strings sparkling in the overhead lamp. The audience muttered and whispered louder now, and Riddle could pick up on some common keywords like _stop_ and _why_ and _competition_ , but he ignored them.

Jonah... _Stopped_.

In a competition like this, it was an automatic disqualification, for Jonah stop like that in the middle of his piece. Riddle could see the judges scribbling something on their clipboard and he knew right away that Jonah wasn’t going to advance now, that he won’t move on, but— _Jonah didn’t have to stop. He didn’t do it._

_So what-_

“... Senior Rosehearts.”

Jonah’s voice was low, and his head was raised towards the audience, though his words were directed at Riddle.

“... Your passion,” said Jonah. “Your love, your ambition ... Your goal ... Even now, today, this second ... It is yours and no one else’s.” Riddle could only stare. “They are yours, and no one can take it from you. No one.“

Riddle gasped, trying to think of something to say, but at this moment, words failed, and all he heard was Jonah’s voice. All he saw was Jonah’s smile, as he finally turned to face him.

“Do you ... Want to try again?”

Riddle had never been asked before.

He never wanted to try again before.

But he found himself moving his hands, found himself nodding, and Jonah raising the arm of his bow, and they were gone again.

_Again._

_Again._

_Again._

This time it was different. Riddle was playing, but he felt ... Different. Something changed, something drastic, and the fingers moved smoothly. He didn’t push himself, didn’t force the melody out, didn’t force his hands to move.

Jonah played with him. The audience got excited and listened attentively, but Riddle didn’t even think about them anymore. His fingers moved as Jonah’s arm dragged the bow along the strings, and Riddle didn’t know why or how but he felt like a kid again, playing a rookie tune to make his father smile, playing without a care, without his mother looming. behind him, without ...

_...Without fear._

And he knew it won’t last long. He knew this moment of passion, this moment of love, this moment where he felt like he was playing this piano and not his mother, he knew it wouldn’t last.

But it was happening now, and he seized it. As his fingers danced over the keys, never missing a beat, and Jonah stroking the violin with a combination of grace and intensity, Riddle seized it.

It ended in a hurry.

Riddle’s hand left the key and Jonah swung his bow arm in the air, as he had done so many times. They were both panting heavily, both gasping for breath, both sweating, both-

_Smiling._

When Riddle met Jonah’s eyes, sparkling and alive despite the sweat running down his face, he smiled.

_Both of them were._

His ears were ringing. His throat felt like cotton. Stiffly, he rose and moved to stand beside Jonah to bow; Jonah had already lowered his violin and bow, and together, the two were facing the audience.

The ringing in Riddle’s ears was cut off, and all he heard was the thundering applause.

It startled him, the transition between ringing to roaring, and he almost stepped back, but held back. He looked at Jonah from the corner of his eye, and Jonah did the same, so that their gazes accidentally met.

Jonah held back his gaze and smile, and with a small jolt of his head toward the audience, they both bowed low.

It was a great show.

_And Riddle wants to do it again with Jonah one day._

**Author's Note:**

> I had this fic in my draft for a very long time. This wasn't supposed to be a TW fic, but I decided to change it because Riddle and Kousei shared the same voice actor.  
> A crossover that nobody wanted.
> 
> HAPPY BIRTHDAY, RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS, OUR KING OF HEARTSLABYUL!  
> We hope you have all the strawberry tart in the world on your special day!


End file.
